hard feelings - an erling haaland story

twenty-three

"Mia, you are the worst person I've ever met. I sometimes wish you never approached me that night at the bar. I wish you just left me alone."

He watched as she panicked over his words, mumbling about how she couldn't do it anymore. After a week of living with each other and constantly arguing, she had finally reached her breaking point. She felt like she couldn't move without having him on her case. It was suffocating for her. It had surprised her that it had taken that long for her to snap at him but his response had surprised her more.

"E, you're being mean." She paused, her pacing had stopped, her fingers still tangled in her hair, picking at something. "I can't. I need to leave. We need space from each other. I'll text ya when I'm ready, okay? Just for the time being, we need time apart."

His head spun, the words hit him like a truck. He knew he had been overbearing and on her case but he didn't know it was to this extreme. He questioned whether the emotions he felt in that moment were similar to how she felt at fourteen. Like he had at fourteen, he watched her walk away, his father at the door, saying nothing but offering a polite smile to the woman, who gave him a small wave and greeting goodbye. Like he had eight year ago, he wanted to speak up, to apologise, to stop her from leaving but nothing came out, not a sound, not a squeak. Just silence.

He felt the weight of his legs collapse under him, crumbling into a ball on the floor. He found himself gasping for air. He didn't know how long it took for his father to come over but the comfort of his arms made him feel like a child again. He thought about his words, wondering what had ever possessed him to say something like that to her. He had always been awful at dealing with his emotions, unsure how to process them in a correct manner.

"You know," His father spoke softly, a tone Erling had not heard from his father since his youth. "you disliked Amelia a lot as a child. You used to complain she was stealing your brother and sister away from you but she only ever wanted to play with you. She only played with Gabi and Astor because you didn't want to play with her. Always said she was yucky and that you wish she didn't exist. Then one day, while we were at training, you couldn't have been more than three, another child had hurt her in the nursery, she cried. A lot. You wouldn't let anyone near her, not even Danny. Told him you didn't care if he was her pappa. You were inseparable from then."

For the first time since she walked out the door, Erling felt his lungs fill with air. A sensation he had longed for. He looked at his father, who took this as a cue to continue talking. "You went from wishing that Amelia didn't exist to never wanting to be apart. You cried when I told you we were moving back home, said you would only go if Amelia came with us. We had to explain to you that she had her own parents who would miss her very much. You said you were leaving and picked up your little backpack, put a toy in it and then asked me to drop you off at the Tiatto's house. My point is, Erling, you and Amelia have a pattern, you'll hate each other, fight like cats and dogs and then you grow dependent on each other, glued to each other's side. On her twelfth birthday, she told you she loved you and you lectured her about platonic love. She gave you the silent treatment for weeks but after that you were best friends again. Just before you fell out, she told you again and you said the same thing you had precviously, and then you told her about Freja. She was heartbroken. She had that same look earlier. You fall out, hate each other and, then grow closer than you ever have been."

The reminiscing from his father had began comforting but ended with him in the same position as before: struggling for air and a dull ache in his chest. He remembered the conversations his father had mentioned. He remembered stating proudly that he had learnt what platonic love was after she had told him she loved him. They were children, she didn't know what love was but she was certain it was Erling. He, on the other hand, insisted that they were nothing more than friends who had a love for each other. Platonic love. His father was right, they did have a pattern and he was worried that his words were going to end it. She would never forgive him.

The air felt thick, even more suffocating than it had in his flat, her legs walked, no end destination in mind, she just needed fresh air. She found herself gasping as the cold evening air hit her lungs. It felt good, freeing. She walked and walked until she couldn't anymore. Her mind was a blur, she didn't know where she was or how far from home she had been. In the rush to escape, she hadn't picked up her phone or purse, leaving her empty handed with no idea where she was.

The clouds were grey, the sky growing darker with every passing minute. A rumble from above letting her know of the rain that was about to pour, much like her tears. She knew he hadn't meant it but why did the words hurt much more this time? She couldn't go back home, it would be too far for her to walk in her state, she didn't have any money. She knew she had to swallow her pride and return to his home. She didn't want to see him but she had no other choice.

Her knuckles collided with the wood of the door gently, taking a deep breath in, she prepared herself for whoever would be on the other side. Either way she knew she would be met with familiar blue eyes. It felt like a lifetime had passed before his father answered the door to her, shock growing on his face as he realised it was the Australian. He ushered her in, a smile plastered on his face, leading her into the kitchen. He took note of her appearance. Her eyes were puffy and red. A slight grimace existed on her face, a sign of pain and discomfort. "Sorry to disturb ya, Alf, I left my phone here and keys, they're in E's..." She paused, almost as though it wasn't her place to call him that nickname. After all, he had wished they hadn't reconnected. "Sorry, my keys are in Erling's room. Is he in there?"

A strained voice from the door responded before Alfie could. "No, he's right here."

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, that same thick air that made it difficult to breathe had returned. He looked upset, like she had been. The sight making her angry. Why was he upset? He was the one who said such spiteful words to her. She watched as Alfie excused himself, leaving them alone in the kitchen. "I'm just getting my keys and I'll be gone. Won't have to see each other for a bit. Until we both cool down and are able to thin-"

She was interrupted by him, approaching her and holding her hands in his. "I love you, Mia. In a romantic way, not a platonic way. You know me better than anyone ever could, inside out. Most people go through their whole lives, without ever really feeling that close with anyone but I am so lucky to have that with you. I love you in a way that makes every single cell in my body crave your presence. Your touch. When I see you, I get the same pleasure I would surrounded by all the beauty on Earth."

He waited for her response, but she stood, staring blankly at him, yet again, another unreadable expression on her face. With the last drop of air in her lungs, she spoke. "I'm sorry, Erling. I can't do this."

Like he had a few hours prior, he watched her walk away. This time, he didn't feel his legs fall from under him. He didn't feel anything.